Throne Of Silence Poem by John MacPhereson

I sit upon a throne of silence,
Within the borders of unopened
Mouths, a kingdom built on the aching
Hours between the voiceless and the dead.
My vocation is a vow made at the hem
Of your dress, a silent reminder of my love.
I rule this realm of silence with iron fisted
Vigilance. Perhaps, in retrospect, this kingdom built on zipper lips
Is only a metaphor for longing,
A hope that the quiet hours break
With the dawn of your voice.